Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basuke is not mine.
Iron Heart
Broken
When Fujiyama Hatsumi originally meets Kiyoshi Teppei at Shōei Junior High, she was taking a light nap, comfortably situated amid the dark branches of a blooming sakura tree...
"Hello? Hey, you up there! Can you hear me?"
Even half-asleep, Hatsumi felt her lips curl in displeasure.
That obnoxiously jovial (and male) voice coming from below seemed damned determined to wake her from her sacred morning siesta (very rude of said voice and yes, it's early; so what if she'd been asleep not too long ago before getting ready for school? Naps are wonderful at anytime).
"You've got to wake up! I'll stay here shouting until you hear me out!"
She pigheadedly remained silent, though his maddening insistence triggered an erratic blitz of muscle spasms in her face.
Perhaps if she purposely ignored him, he would take off — the universal tactic worked like a charm on her whiny, demon-spawned two year-old brother (seriously, the gabby toddler was unadulterated evil).
"I know you heard me that time. I can see you twitching."
Well, so much for that.
Time to go back to the drawing board and devise novel methods to deter people of all ages. But she needed something now, so she implemented the first idea that came to mind.
"Go away," Hatsumi grumbled without opening her eyes, or moving, for that matter. "If ya leave now, I promise you won't find me creeping on your ceiling tonight."
"Huh?" was the confused reply. "You mean, you know where I live?"
"...No."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Scare attempt #1: Epic fail.
Hatsumi tried a different approach. "Be-gone, ye evil demon."
The boy laughed then, a hearty, pure sound that was nothing like the sinful demon she'd accused him of being. "Didn't you indirectly say that you crawl on ceilings just a minute ago? That's pretty demonic, you know."
Hatsumi nearly growled out loud — so, she was dealing with a low-key smartass, huh?
Great.
Just freaking great.
"Anyway," he continued, "I wanted to tell you that there's a few minutes left before class begins. You'll miss out if you stay up there."
Her eyelids instinctively cracked open upon hearing the reason behind his unwanted presence, revealing bleary, chagrined eyes a pastel shade of ochre yellow.
Of all the bloody people she could have met on the first day of her first year in junior high, this guy just had to be one of those self-righteous, goody two-shoes...
Well, she'd kindly inform him just how she viewed his obscenely good deed of the day.
Objective set, Hatsumi, with the grace and lethargy of a three-toed sloth, raised herself from her supine position atop several gnarled boughs. Sitting up, she blinked to quash the fatigue from her nap and slid herself onto the thickest, widest branch after the grogginess somewhat dissipated. She then gripped her perch with both hands to lean slightly forward, scrutinizing the source of her current irritation.
As she'd already gathered, it was indeed a boy, an unusually tall boy at that (was he really in junior high — hell, was he even Japanese?). She was 100% certain that, when standing next to her, he would tower over her in a manner comparable to a skyscraper and bonsai plant (okay, that's a bit of a hyperbole as she wasn't a midget, by any means).
Just take away the fact that the boy, for his age and purportedly Japanese heritage, seamlessly fit into the big and tall category (also annoying for waking her up).
Sporting a spiky crown of rich brown sugar hair, he gazed up at her with matching colored eyes beneath fairly thick eyebrows. "Oh, you're giving me your full attention now?"
Hatsumi frowned. "You're really not giving me a choice on the matter."
"Is that so? I'm happy." A blithe smile spread on his rather adorable face. "Let's go to class together."
Like crushed aluminum foil, her nose crumpled at his whimsical demeanor — but an air of sudden hesitancy swirled about her as she really took the time to study him and immediately grasped two truths.
One: He was a bit of a dork.
Two: He was actually, ridiculously, irrevocably, cute.
Conclusion: On the ground below her echelon was a lovely boy with a dorky, cute smile.
Anything dorky or cute was a weakness of hers.
And he had a distinct accumulation of both.
Crap.
The once burning impulse to verbally thrash him vanished like smoke in the air…
However!
The galvanized exasperation was still present — despite acting, looking, and laughing like a precious cinnamon roll, he still had no business interrupting her precious nap. Therefore, she bequeathed him with a mulish glare.
"Why are you still down there?"
"Because you're still up there."
"So?"
"I want you to come down here."
"For what?"
"I told you already."
"I don't care if I'm late."
"I can tell."
"Then bug off."
"I won't."
"If I throw something at you, would you leave then?"
"Nope, just dodge."
"Hm." Hatsumi had to admit, he was a tenacious character, despite his seemingly laid-back nature. She swung her dangling legs back and forth, contemplating. "Y'know, if you don't leave, you'll be late."
"We can be tardy buddies."
"Has anyone ever told you, that you're a troublesome, thick-browed weirdo?"
He beamed. "About five different times on separate occasions — you're the sixth."
Perfectly stumped, Hatsumi squinted at him.
This boy was someone to be inherently wary of; there was something just plain off about him (because, who in the hell smiles when being insulted?). That being said, in the face of dorky cuteness and overwhelming optimism unopposed by mockery, her indignation deflated like a flat tire.
Hatsumi sighed in utter defeat.
"...Alright," she yielded, scratching her short, frazzled celadon green locks. "I give, you win; I'll come down."
He smiled in that same unnervingly docile manner. "I knew you'd come around."
Stifling a drowsy yawn, Hatsumi steadily chose to disregard him as she began clambering down. Already, ideas were churning in her, plotting nefarious ways to bestow retribution on this adorable-yet-eccentric boy.
She would have her revenge, sweet, sweet revenge upon…wait just a darn second.
This just won't do.
Hatsumi had no idea the name of her new arch nemesis that she's sworn absolute vengeance on—
"I'm Kiyoshi Teppei, by the way."
(Oh that was conveniently timed. Also, lovely name; had a pleasant ring to it.)
Now then, Fujiyama Hatsumi will have her sweet revenge upon this Kiyoshi Teppei, no matter the cost, no matter the pain—
"I like Noraemon* too; it was one of my favorite shows as a kid."
"Oh really?" Hatsumi grinned (a fellow fan) even if that came out of nowhere. "Thanks, it was one of my — wait…WHAT—?!"
Slip.
"Uwaaa!"
"Look out—!"
THUD!
Snap.
"Auggghhh!"
And she unceremoniously dropped out the tree in realization, more humiliated that he'd seen her childish underwear back from elementary school than of his indecent peeping.
"Are you okay? You fell so suddenly!"
"Because panties, you, for lack of better insult, peeping Tom!"
"Sorry. But to be fair, it's not really peeping when anyone walking by can see them with one innocent look upward and — look at your wrist! It's twisted in the wrong way!"
"No duh, I freaking landed on it!"
"It looks so bad and it's all my fault, I'm sorry — but, I didn't mean to — gosh, I'm so sorry, and — are you going to be okay?!"
"I will be when you quit your rueful blubbering and go get help, you idiot! And why the hell are you crying — you're not the one with the broken wrist!"
"B-Because, it looks so painful! And grotesque! How are you not crying?!"
"Dunno, actually. Can't quite feel the pain…maybe, I'm going into shock? If so, awesome."
"That's not a good thing!"
Word count: 1290
A/N: This is just my little break in-between my more complex KnB story, Pentimento.
*Noraemon is a parody of Doraemon in KnB universe.
Review of your thoughts?
